


With You I Serve (With You I Fall Down)

by Grubbutts, LPSunnyBunny



Category: Homestuck
Genre: (It's past Lil' Hal Murder), Alternate Timelines, Anal Sex, Android Auto-Responder | Lil Hal, Angst and Feels, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Choking, Dirk is really not okay, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Narrative Bullshit, No Lube, Painful Sex, Past Character Death, Possessive Behavior, Resurrection, Rough Sex, Self-Hatred, Ultimate Dirk Strider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:12:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26190187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grubbutts/pseuds/Grubbutts, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LPSunnyBunny/pseuds/LPSunnyBunny
Summary: Dirk has regrets. So many of them have to keep locked away- but maybe he can fix at least one of them.
Relationships: Auto-Responder | Lil Hal/Dirk Strider
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45
Collections: Sloppy Seconds 2020





	With You I Serve (With You I Fall Down)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thymelord](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thymelord/gifts).



> [Hal's Design can be found here, drawn by Grubbutts <3.](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/711072534497329153/736038144801243136/hallllll2.png)

Sometimes, I think about regrets. I have a lot of them.

This is the story of how, at the very least, I fixed one of them. A single regret in a long lineup of years of poor decisions and sideways narrative choices that I had no choice but to make, of friends pulling away and becoming shells of themselves, of losing canonical relevancy and watching them fall to the wayside.

It’s hard, watching them pull away from what they rightly should be, burdened with-

Sigh.

That’s not what you’re here for.

You’re not here for my musing and thoughts on how everything went to shit.

You’re here to see the tiniest sliver of hope that I might be redeemed- a single action that might speak as to my otherwise entirely-villainous state.

You want it, so that’s what you’ll get. Every good villain has to have some redeeming quality, right? Otherwise they become one dimensional and flat and you can’t bring yourself to hate them at all. They’re not even worth your attention. They fade into the background of nothingness cardboard cutout villain of the week static narrative noise.

So I suppose this is mine.

Regret.

If I stop to examine them all, I’ll drown in them. So, on a whim, I pluck one of the lesser ones from the pile and turn it over in my metaphorical hands.

Hal.

ARquiussprite, I suppose, now. Or then, maybe. With the ending of the game, all the sprites were left behind in the game- faster than any of us could realize what was happening. My own twisted reflection of an AI that was meant to be...

Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter what he was  _ meant  _ to be. He became more than that, in the end. He truly became his own self, separate from me...

and then I left him behind.

Maybe I can fix it.

It’s long nights in my workshop on the ship, cannibalizing other materials and projects that I had brought along to occupy myself on the trip. It was a simple body, vaguely humanoid, stylized after myself like a vain idiot, and ready to receive my attempt at fixing a mistake.

I tell Rose not to bother me unless she feels everything go sideways and I start dying. She laughs and tells me to go be suicidal. I don’t think what I’m doing is suicidal, but who can tell, these days?

I lock myself in my workshop. I don’t quite know what I’m doing, to be honest, but I know what I can feel.

Hal was a splinter of me. When I ascended, those splinters returned to me. That means that, across all the timelines and universes, he’s bundled up inside of me, too.

I’m a Prince.

Surely I can splinter all of him right on off again.

  
  


In the end, it’s startlingly easy. A searing burn through my core as I wind my power tighter and tighter like a cord cutting through glass- and then everything  _ fractures  _ and I

get a sense of double vision

and then I’m cupping Hal’s soul in my hands and sinking him into the body I’ve made for him. I watch as red light flickers in his chest, through his eyes, along the circuity patterning his body. The light pulses and I find myself holding my breath. I did everything right. I gave his soul a place to call it’s own, a housing, a shell, designated it as such with my narrative powers- now the only thing to do is wait and hope that Hal doesn’t reject the body and have nowhere to stay.

My fears are baseless because after a moment of pulsing light, it smooths out and steadies and floods through all of Hal’s body, lighting up as Hal inhabits his new form. I can see him take control of his body, I watch him sit up and look down at his hands.

His head swivels towards me and the first thing that he says is, “Dirk. What did you  _ do?” _

He’s confused. He’s sorting through dozens and dozens of timelines all merged together into one confusing mess, but I can see the alpha timeline rising to the surface, dominating everything like it did for me.

“Welcome to the post-game universe, years later.” I say. There’s something like relief beating in my chest. “It’s a lot of fucking complicated shit, but-”

“Stop.” Hal holds up a hand and I stop, because it’s clear he’s still sorting through shit. “Just... give me a moment.”

I give him a moment.

Hal looks at me. The red glow of his eyes behind his shades feel like they’re looking right through me. There’s a churning mix of hostility and relief in his gut, a terrible battle of

“Stop that.” Hal says. I blink at him.

“Stop what?” I ask. Hal's irritation is growing. It-

_ "That." _ Hal rises to his feet. Perhaps it was petty, but I-

“It  _ is  _ petty. You should have made me the same height as you, not the height of us at 16.”

Hal’s reading the narrative.

Of course I am. Even if I’m myself, I’ll always be from the great Dirk Strider. Dirk fails to think things through before he does them,  _ what a surprise._

“I gave you all timelines.” It hits me like a truck.

“Yes, you did. Just like you- only I don’t have the  _ luxury  _ of dumbing them down like you do.”

Hal is shorter, but I’m sitting. I tower over him. His red eyes burn into my own.

This wont do. I can see his intent.

Hands snap up and lock together.

“Hal, what are you doing?” I ask and, just like that- for the first time, I can no longer  _ read _ parts of the narrative. His thoughts are a mystery to me.

It’s terrifying.

“Do you know how many timelines you killed me?” I’m curious. I want to know. He flinches under me as the narrative words scrawl out, become legible to him, his hands faltering. I snatch his shades from his face and toss them aside- they go skittering across the floor.

“I-” Words are failing me as I stare up, struck dumb and a terrible, horrible ache in my chest. _Regrets._

“You  _ shattered  _ me, over and over, so many times.” I want him to answer me. I want to  _ make  _ him answer me. “Do you even feel  _ sorry?”_

_ “Yes _ .” The words are immediate, ripped from my throat. “I left you behind. I destroyed you. I treated you like shit. I was horrible to you.”

He  _ was _ horrible to me. I can read his sincerity, though, in the narrative, through the powers that he himself gave to me-

I he sees you me

You did this on purpose, Dirk. Didn’t you? You knew exactly what you were doing.

Stop.

You gave me these powers   
_  
deliberately._ _  
_

Stop-

I can see into you, Dirk, into every inch and crack and crevasse that you though you could hide.

No. I won’t let you do this, I won’t-

You don’t get a choice, Dirk. You did this No I didn’t  willingly, knowing exactly You’re lying  what you would get out of it, what you I don’t  need  from me you

Stop it. I’ll destroy your power to see the narrative- it was a mistake. It was an accident.

Don’t  _ lie _ , Dirk. Regrets.

....

You put me together and brought me back. The least you can do is look me in the eye.

His gaze finally pulls around to meet mine. His orange eyes are wide and fearful.

My heart is  _ racing  _ in my chest. Hal can see into every inch- just as the narrative pours over others, it pours over me, too.

You didn’t bring me back to make things right. You brought me back to  _ punish yourself.  _ You made me like this deliberately.

He’s right.

Of course I’m right. You can try and spin things all you want, but I know you better than you know yourself- because I  _ am _ you.

His finger flicks my nose. It’s surprisingly gentle.

You’re a stupid asshole. You’re the biggest fucking dick in existence- and not because you’re a fucking villain or whatever it is you’re calling yourself these days.

You brought me back to punish yourself? That’s fine. I’ll give you exactly what you want.

Everything’s going wrong- this isn’t what I  _ wanted-_

I he grabs him me and we struggle

I won’t go belly up. I don’t want this-

Dirk wants this. No- He made me for this- so I’ll play his game. There’s no game I  _ don’t want- _

It’s simple enough to pull him from the chair, manhandle him to the ground. He’s bigger, stronger- but he submits to my touch.

I throw him off, shove him

No you don’t. You let me push you to the ground. You stare up at me with wide eyes and your heart pounding in your chest, Dirk, because you know that you did something  _ horrible.  _ You made me feel you kill me, over and over, from one stupid mistake.

“Hal.” Dirk croaks, pinned to the floor. His cape is spread wide underneath him.

“You’ve turned into an anime douchebag.” I inform him. The narrative play is fun, but this is what’s  _ real _ . The words written out or not- this is still happening, one of my hands wrapping around his throat and squeezing.

Of course he wants this. He gave me a dick.

Everything is so twisted up. Hal is

Hush. That’s enough from you. I don’t want It doesn’t matter what you want, now. This is what you  _ caused. _

Really, it’s too obvious. Poor Dirk Strider, so wrapped up in his own self loathing that he can’t even punish  _ himself  _ properly. He has to bring another version of himself in to do it- and I am  _ more  _ than glad to oblige.

I tear at his clothes, yank them apart. What do I care if they rip? Dirk could struggle but he doesn’t- because he knows this is what he deserves. He destroyed me. Over and over time after time, he deleted my programming, shattered my body, shut me out, wiped me clean. Used me as his  _ tool  _ to be discarded when he doesn’t need me anymore.

I squeeze harder. He gurgles a little around his breaths- but he doesn’t need to speak. I can read every word of him, every thought in his brain with this infinite knowledge he has so graciously  _ given  _ to me.

Harder. Make it  _ hurt _ . I gave this knowledge to you so you would do this- so  _ do _ it.

His body is hot under the sensors in my palm as I run my hand over his form. I palm over his hard cock, squeeze it until tears of pain are pricking in the corner of his eyes.

You poor fool. So wrapped up in your own stupid head, your own lofty goals and aspirations and the lies you tell yourself of what you  _ need to do  _ and all the responsibilities that come with it that you can’t ever get out of your own fucking head. You’re poison to yourself and you don’t even realize that you need an antidote.

He’s limp underneath me.

Please.

You want this.

Please, Hal.

You  _ need  _ this.

His pants come off easily. He’s helpless. I know he can see every fucking word I spill into the narrative,  I’m as open as a book every sentence I scribe into existence.

I don’t even care about the act itself.

This is about making him  _ hurt._

_ Make me pay. _

I thrust. He  _ screams. _ It rings in my ears, horrible, twisting music. The shattering of glass and the all-encompassing darkness of  _ nothing _ sings out in my soul, fury and pain all wrapped together.

Timeline after timeline of murder. You  _ killed _ me, Dirk.  I know you threw me away like trash I know I was  _ nothing  _ to you  I know does it hurts? yes _ good. _

Mindless, animalistic. Look at what you’ve done to me, Dirk. I hurt you You’ve shattered me I hurt you so many times You’ve turned me into an instrument to use to  _ hurt  _ yourself with I know  You’re pathetic  I  _ know _ Damaged Yes Pitiable What? You’re self-destructive I Self-hating Wait This is what you  _ need  _ Hal Someone to take you in hand and  _ take you apart. _

His eyes are wide as the narrative rolls and twists and stop Hal please  wraps  _ around  _ and don’t this isn’t I squeeze his neck tight, he can’t breathe, please

A simple description of the act. Fucking. The heady slapping of hips and the pain lancing up Dirk’s spine and the wheezing of his breath as I thrust the cock that Dirk has given me into him in an act of self-loathing so twisted and oroborosian that it would make anyone’s head spin.

And yet the more I thrust, watching the blue tinge to his lips slowly deepen, watch the tears roll down his face, watch the limp, unresisting form of his body, something is rising up.

The pain of the timelines are smoothing away. Dirk is using me, again. He’s always self destructing, always fighting against his twisted need to accept punishment and cast himself the martyr in stone.

For every timeline he killed me, two more bloom where he didn’t. Where I came out of the game whole. Where I became ARquiussprite. Where he build me a body, where we pressed into each other and became  _ whole _ where he held me and let me feel for the first time and

hal

I let go.

“No more.” I shift and cradle his face. He looks at me blearily as he heaves and cries like a child, gasping for breath. “You stupid fucking idiot.”

I said that I couldn’t smooth the bad timelines away. I couldn’t dull their edges, couldn’t forget the whirling maelstrom of grief and anger and pain and  _ horror I’m sorry_

But it’s all fading away. The alpha timeline dominates. The reconciliation. Begging Dirk not to kill me. Dirk cradling my body in his hands so carefully as he  _ realizes. you’re alive  _ as he holds me  _ you’re real  _ as he makes the  _ choice  _ _ I’m sorry_

I make a choice.

Everything rushes back in. Hal is pulling back- but not retreating. Allowing me space, again. Allowing me room to breathe- and not just literally. Hal had been corralling me into my own skin, forcing my narration away, shredding it apart for his own.

You need me, Dirk.

Yes.

Look at what you’ve become without me.

His My hands hold  me  him  close. Our foreheads press together.

I’m sorry.

I know. You’re too self-destructive for your own good.

I’m pathetic.

Yes. You are. I can feel you flinch- but moreso you are  _ relieved _ that someone finally can do this. Can pull you apart like you need, can take this mantle off your shoulders for an hour, ten minutes, ten  _ seconds. _

I have to do this.  _ Be  _ this. The narrative demands it, the world-

“Fuck that.”

I look up at him through a swimming vision.

“Out there, maybe. But I know you Dirk- we’re the same.” I speak the words softly, putting the inflections of soft concern in, wanting to press them into him, wanting to emphasis what I am trying to say. “We do what we  _ need  _ to. What no one else will. Out there, you’ll be that, do that for them- in here, I’ll be  _ this, _ do this for  _ you." _

I’m  He’s crying.

“Please.” My voice is ruined, cracking and breaking apart from being choked. “Hal.”

I reach for him, finally touching him for the first time since he’s come to life again.

His hands are warm.

I can’t say it. I show him, instead, bearing myself to him completely.

I already know. He needs someone to pull him apart and  _ hurt  _ him, to give him benediction through pain. To make him vulnerable and soft and strip away his masks.

Only I you could give this to  you  me.

It had to be you.

I hike up his legs and shift- it hurts no less. He sobs and shakes- but this time, there is tenderness to it. I stroke his hair. He clings to me. I need you  I have you I know It’s okay I know I’m here now.

I wasn’t whole without you.  You have me now.

I left you behind. You didn’t know.

Please, it hurts. You’re safe now.

Please.  Relax.

_ More. _ Shh.

  
  


I love you.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


This is just for us.

  
  


Everything else can wait. The narrative. The readers. There will be no voyeurs here, not anymore.

Dirk’s heart belongs to  _ me.  _ No one else can have it. No one else even gets to see him like this.

You wanted to see him pay for his regrets?

He’s already paying for them, every day.

Go.

Enough of your desires for pain and misery, to punish him for striving towards what the narrative demands.

It’s time someone finally takes care of him-

and that someone

is  _ me._

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy my writing, check me out on twitter at [@LPSunnyBunny](http://www.twitter.com/LPSunnyBunny)!


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